


A Very Harry Christmas

by Darkwyverna



Series: Harry Christmas [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkwyverna/pseuds/Darkwyverna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ron challenges Malfoy to be charitable, not only does Malfoy take the challenge but moves it to the next level. Harry feels compelled to help, and it might be more than Christmas spirit driving him. </p><p>A Christmas Fluff. EWE, M/M, Drarry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charity

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently being posted up at Fanfiction as well, but this is my first fic on here. As a heads up before you read you should listen to Ray Stevens: The Streak. Never thought I’d write that into a story of any kind…
> 
> I hope you enjoy! This will be updated every day until Christmas (twice today cause I meant to get a chapter up yesterday but, life).

 

It was a joke. Really. Ron had seen Malfoy dropping a galleon in a charity pot and had said a bit too loud “Look, thinks he’s regular Santa, he does.”

“I beg your pardon, Weasel?” Malfoy sneered.

“When was the last time you gave back to the world?” Ron shot at the blonde.

“I paid more than my fair share of reparation fees.” Malfoy said icily.

“You can’t give what was taken from you.” Ron said, but his confidence was shaken. Everyone knew the reparation fees were bogus, just the Ministry trying to make some quick cash; they never made it to the hands of those who needed it.

“Watch it Weasel.” Malfoy snarled and then brushed by.

Harry watched the confrontation without any expectations. He knocked Ron’s shoulder for being an ass though. Malfoy had tried to turn things around, getting into the Auror program and excelling past anyone’s expectations, even with everyone against him. Ron was no exception, and while Harry had been wary at first, he found himself one of the few people on Malfoy’s team. Well, not literally. Malfoy was working alone currently as his last partner ducked out. It was the third partner who’d done it. Each one publically said that they had personal obligations that kept them from being able to continue to be partnered with Malfoy. Maybe the first one had, but Harry thought it was prejudice, and the second two? Well Harry knew for a fact they just couldn’t keep up with the blonde.

Harry nearly chuckled again when he remembered the platinum haired man’s nickname, ‘The Streak’. It had started because he was always the first one in a dangerous situation, outpacing even Harry, and the Malfoy’s wand work was an impeccable streamlined streak of constant motion. Then there was the ‘Umbridge Undressed’ case. Umbridge had gotten out of Azkaban in a prison breach a few years back (one of the few down sides of removing the dementors from Azkaban was that the security level had dropped significantly). There had been a huge search party sent out, and within hours of the break they had tracked down and recaptured every prisoner except for Umbridge. They had, however, managed to trace her to a small potion’s shop on the outskirts of a muggle town. Harry and Ron had gotten to the scene first, but were waiting for a potions expert to show up before they entered. There was really no hurry, what with Dolores trapped with no wand, but Malfoy thought otherwise. Without waiting for a potions master he rushed into the shop. Harry had followed him, swearing, and showed up just in time to see Malfoy, starkers, chasing then tackling the fat woman to the ground. Unable to comprehend Harry stood there staring as the obscenely fit Auror looked up at him expectantly.

“Just gonna watch Potter, or get over here and help?”

“How-?”

“This shop mostly produces the products for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Weasel should have known.” Malfoy snorted and then shoved grunted as the fat witch struggled a bit more. “Would you at least stun her?”

“Ah-” Harry managed to bind the witch without getting Malfoy caught in the ropes (though Malfoy did bat away a rope that was looking to wander up his leg, and glared at Potter). “That, ah, doesn’t explain, ah.”

“Erudite as always Potter.” Malfoy said standing, and leisurely brushing himself off. Harry couldn’t help but stare, and now half of the Auror department was drifting in cautiously. “She threw a potion at me, one that resembles a love potion but which actually dissolves clothing. It’s a cute trick. I can’t magic new robes on until after I shower and remove the residue.”

“Ah.”

“Oh do shut your trap Potter. Or at least avert your eyes and pretend you’re not interested.” Malfoy snarled. Harry flushed but took his jacket off, throwing it at Malfoy. The blonde caught it on reflex and frowned. “It didn’t dissolve.”

“George gave me a spell that would prevent that sort of thing from happening to my clothing when he made the potion.” Harry said, and Malfoy had the decency to flush as he threw the jacket on. Ron had later made a comment about a muggle song called ‘The Streak’. Soon Malfoy couldn’t go through the office without someone muttering ‘Look at that, look at that’. The man was so confused (though the only sign of the confusion was a slightly raised brow in the scowl he shot people) that Harry had to take pity on him and gave the Malfoy a copy of the song, the premise of which was a man running starkers all over town with no shame.

‘Oh, yes, they call him the Streak/ Look at that, look at that/ Fastest thing on two feet/ Look at that, look at that/ He's just as proud as he can be/ Of his anatomy/ He goin' give us a peek’

The blonde had colored once then his face straightened out. He nodded, thanked Harry, and walked away. The next time someone muttered ‘look at that, look at that’ Malfoy turned around and raised an eyebrow, and with a slight smirk asked: “Interested, Ethel?”

The person, a graying Auror in his late fifties colored so deeply that Harry worried he’d have aneurism. That had ended the time when people called him the Streak to his face, but Harry knew a few who still said it when they knew the man wasn’t around. Harry didn’t correct them, but only because his mind always went back to the incident, and he was temporarily dumbstruck.

So when Malfoy organized a Christmas Ball with an entrance fee and all proceeds went to a children’s hospital, the general air of the office was stunned. Malfoy made the announcement, posted the flyer, and then made his way to his desk. It took almost five minutes before conversation resumed, which was unheard of really. Harry watched as his co workers slowly started to react, and the reactions weren’t good. From the way people were muttering the whole thing was going to be a failure. Harry bristled for a moment before standing and walking over to Malfoy’s desk.

“Yes Potter?” The man asked, without looking up from his paperwork.

“Can I help?” The shocked look on Malfoy’s face as his head shot up was worth a hundred galleons.

“What?”

“The Ball you’re organizing. I’d like to help; it can’t be easy setting the whole thing up by- no matter how many people do it.” He said, changing his statement at the last moment. He didn’t want to injure Malfoy pride. The man stuttered for a moment before nodding.

“That… would be nice Potter, thank you.” Malfoy said after a moment.

“Anything to help the children.” Harry said, and didn’t comprehend why he picked up a flicker of disappointment in Malfoy’s face. “When should I show up where?”

“Ah, are you free for planning? I want to lay down concrete plans. Shall we go and get coffee tomorrow?”

“I’m free until eleven.” Harry said after a moment of figuring out what paperwork he could put off.

“Good. I’ll see you at 9am then. Say, that little place off the corner of Hester’s Horrible Hobby Hut?”

“Hester’s Happy Hobby Hut?” Harry asked.

“Not with a name like that.” Malfoy sneered. A chuckle shook Harry’s chest before he knew it was coming, startling himself and Malfoy.

“Sure. I’ll see you then.” He nodded before heading back to his own little desk with Ron.

“What the bloody hell was that?”  His partner gave a hoarse squeak. Harry shrugged.

“You offered him the challenge, I don’t see why I can’t help him, and it is for a good cause.” Harry said simply.

“But its bloody well Malfoy!” Ron squealed again, this time loud enough to be heard. Harry glared at his best mate, and wished that the man had grown out of his childish feuds when he had grown into his ears.

“I don’t see what bearing that has on this, Ronald.” He said, using his best Hermione voice, and not intending to be quiet. “A charity is a charity, and I think this is a particularly good idea for one.”

“Barmy…” Ron muttered.

“I’m not asking for your help.” Harry said firmly, and returned to paperwork with angry vigor.

 

 

 

The next morning Harry overslept. By the time he had gotten himself presentable it was already nine thirty. Apparating straight to the shop, he winced as he saw Malfoy at the cash register, paying for what looked like an absurd amount of coffee.

“Malfoy!” Potter gasped, still trying to tie his tie. “I’m--.”

“No need Potter. I got the message.” Malfoy snarled, throwing down the galleon and heading towards the door.

“No, I don’t think—.”

“No, I didn’t. If I did, I would have known this was all some jolly lark on me.” He grumbled, not bothering to look at Harry. Harry groaned and set a hand on the man’s shoulder. Malfoy spun around wand raised and then hesitated. “Ah…”

“I overslept.” Harry deadpanned.

“You ah, haven’t buttoned your shirt.” Malfoy said, pointing to the shirt that actually was buttoned, but done so badly that a good amount of chest showed through. Harry flushed and his fingers twitched as he tried to decide if it was better to rebutton it now or apparate out of here.

“I just said I overslept.” He grumbled and then winced as he somehow managed to get his finger stuck in his tie.

“You’re a mess.” Malfoy sighed and looked around. He had just made a scene and people were still watching. With a small frown he grabbed Potter and apparated them both to the small flat Malfoy was currently living in.

“The bathroom is to the right. Finish getting dressed and I’ll get out the decorations I have already.” He said, his voice remarkably cool for having just yelled at the flustered hero of the wizarding world.

“Ah, thanks.” Harry grunted, a bit discombobulated, and more than slightly confused. He hadn’t even thought to pull away from Malfoy when the man side-along-ed him. He didn’t realize he trusted the berk that much. And the man was a berk, yelling at Harry like that. Sure he was late, but really.

Harry finished putting himself together in the bathroom (which smelled suspiciously pleasant for any room, let alone a bathroom), and went out to see what the other man had in mind. Only, when he stepped out of the room, he stepped into some D-grade Christmas movie.

“Oh sweet Merlin’s balls.” Harry gasped before laughing. There were Santa’s, everywhere. From little porcelain ones, to the ugly old plastic ones, to the large inflatable ones Muggles put in their yards.

“What is so funny Potter. This is traditional Christmas paraphernalia, is it not?” Malfoy said, slightly flushed. Harry couldn’t answer for a few more moments, as his movement sent a frenzy of motion activated Santa’s into a rally of Christmas carols and belly laughs, with a few poems thrown in for good measure.

“Malfoy,” He finally managed to gasp out, his stomach hurting from laughing. “Where did you get all of these?”

“Most of them I replicated from things I’d seen in muggle stores or on muggle airwaves. What is so funny Potter?”

“I’m in Satan’s evil lair is what’s so funny. Oh god, I’ve never seen such a horrifying display of red.” He chuckled. “It’s Santa Hell, where bad Santa’s go when they die, oh sweet Merlin, is that a Chuckie Santa? It is. Oh god.”

“Potter, I thought you were here to help, not to laugh at me.” Malfoy pouted. It took Harry a moment to recognize the pout, and when he did the laugh slid away and a slow smile replaced it.

“Sorry. Malfoy, what do you know about Christmas? I mean, I know even purebloods don’t grow up purely with the Solstice stuff, not anymore.” Harry asked, running a hand through his hair and trying to take in the avalanche of Santa’s around him.

“I grew up in a very traditional house. The only ‘modern’ Christmas thing we did was exchange presents, and occasionally bring in a tree instead of the normal pine boughs for the mantel.” Malfoy sulked for a moment. “All I know was that as I kid I was always hearing about this Santa fellow.”

Harry sobered then, realizing that Malfoy had never had a proper Christmas.

“Oh. Ok. Well, let’s start with the basics and move our way back up to decorations. This is going to be happening at the Manor, yes?”

Malfoy opened his mouth and then closed it hard enough Harry could hear his teeth click, even over the Santas clamoring.

“You really don’t know.” The man said, furrowing his brows. “Potter, the Manor hasn’t been owned by the Malfoy family in nearly ten years. It was the first thing that that Ministry took from us.”

“Your home?” Harry asked, stunned.

“They didn’t leave us homeless, we had other properties, but the manor was the heart of the Malfoy family. They took it and everything inside. Said they couldn’t risk us taking out dark artifacts or some nonsense, like we would hide anything there in the ancestral house.” Malfoy muttered.

“Malfoy, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Harry said, taking a step closer to the other man.

“It’s fine Potter, old news really.” Malfoy said, not looking at Potter but examining a particularly horrific plastic Santa.

“It’s not. Is there anything I can do?”

“You and your hero complex.” Malfoy snarled. “It’s too late. They gutted it, sold off the heirlooms and now use the place as a summer home for the minister. No one can get it back.”

“I—”

“Yes, yes, you didn’t know. I get it. Let’s move on.” Malfoy grunted. “I have a small property in the country. It’s quaint, in the middle of a pine wood. It’s not well kept up, so we’ll have our work cut out for us if we want it up and running, but it fits the mood I think.”

“It sounds nice.” Harry offered, trying his hardest not to step right into his own mouth again. Malfoy looked him over and gave a sigh.

“I don’t want your pity.” He said after a moment.

“I don’t pity you.” Harry said earnestly. Malfoy looked up at him, judging his sincerity before nodding.

“Now you say this is bad?” Malfoy asked, waving to the Santas and setting off another clamor of holiday cheer.

“Not bad Malfoy. Scary and disturbing.” Harry said. “It’s enough to give small children lifelong phobias. It’s also unexpectedly garish of you.”

“Why Potter, that was a large word and used correctly too.” Malfoy said, sidestepping the issue. Harry noticed and shook his head.

“This is going to need me to step up more than I thought. What are you doing this weekend?” He sighed.

“It depends on what you want me for.” Malfoy said stubbornly.

“We are going to sit down and watch muggle Christmas movies so you can see what this is all about, as well as getting a good idea of what the decorations are like.” Harry said. Malfoy looked flushed, but then, it might have been the reflection of all of the red uniforms in the room.

“I can spare Saturday for it.” He said after a moment’s thought. Harry smiled and then looked around the room again.

“God I wish I could tell Ron about this.” He muttered. “He’d die, just die.”

“You’re not?” Malfoy asked, and the look of shock on his face was masked so thinly that the might as well have been no mask at all.

“No. I couldn’t. You would never live it down. And frankly, I’m going to have enough nightmares about this without Ron bringing it up all the time.” He grumbled. “If you’ll excuse me though, I have to get my things. I ran out of the house before I grabbed anything, and I have work shortly.”

“Certainly, this way.” Malfoy muttered, moving through the crowd, gaggle, heard, of Santas. Harry covered his face with his hands, blocking out the smiling Santa-nick elves and trying to un-hear the tumultuous noise. At the door he turned to Malfoy, silhouetted by plastic, red suited old men, and gave a pained smile.

“Thank you for having me over Malfoy.” He said formally, giving the man a small bow. Malfoy paused and then bowed back.

“Thank you for helping me.” Malfoy said after another moment. “Really.”

Harry smiled and, like the jolly old bloke, he set a finger aside of his nose, gave a nod, and apparated.


	2. Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo.. heads up, this was supposed to be a cute one shot, but it got turned into this... mess. For anyone who knows the 7 heavenly virtues, this isn't going to be based on them. These are going to be Christmas virtues, based off of the values and traditions of Christmas. So I'm making it up as I go along.

 

Harry double checked his bags again. A laptop, a wireless router, an ethernet cord, a few dvds (the rest of the movies he figured he could get from an online video service he had signed up for a few months back), popcorn (obviously necessary for watching movies), and a couple of two liter soda bottles. He contemplated grabbing the box of hot chocolate mix from his cupboard, but that seemed too… intimate. Hot chocolate made everything romantic, and this was planning, not a date. With a small nod, Harry cast a few spells around the electronics, hoping to protect them from the magic of apparition, before popping into Malfoy's hallway.

Malfoy appeared at the door only a moment after Potter had arrived, most likely sensing the wards, Harry assumed. He took one look at Potter's bags and frowned.

"Moving in?" He asked, stepping aside to let the man in.

"Wasn't sure what you had and what you needed." Harry muttered, making his way into the living-room.

"I have a tv." Malfoy said, after watching Harry drop a small ton of things on the couch.

"Good, then we won't both have to sit over my laptop." Harry smiled, and looked around. "Oh and plugs too! Muggle owned?"

"The apartment caters to both wizards and muggles. The top floors are wizard only, so that we can apparate in and out without worrying about muggles, but the whole place is outfitted for muggle habitation."

"You still manage to make muggles sound like lesser life forms. Well never mind, give me a second and I'll get everything set up. I brought some popcorn if you want to pop it?"

"Popcorn?" Malfoy asked.

"You must know about popcorn, we had it at Hogwarts." Harry frowned, looking up from his laptop as it loaded.

"Yes, but why bring it?" Malfoy asked.

"It's what you do when you watch movies. Do you have a microwave or something to pop it in?" Harry asked, digging through his bags to find the box.

"Yes. Give it here Potter, I'm fully capable, I just didn't realize." Malfoy grumbled. Harry gave him a small smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply otherwise." He said, tossing over the box. Malfoy caught it and looked it over before nodding. "I brought some soda as well, if you want to bring glasses."

"I made hot chocolate." Malfoy said, retreating to the other room. "Is that not traditional for Christmas?"

Harry swallowed hard for a moment and then shook his head. Maybe the whole romance of hot chocolate was just in his head.

"No, you're right, I just didn't have any to bring." He lied as he rooted around the back of the TV. The setup was more impressive than he had thought he would find, with the TV (no longer hidden by grotesque plastic elves) fairly large and already hooked up to a speaker system. After a moment he found the Ethernet cord attachment, testifying to the youth of the device.

"Is the set up acceptable?" He heard Malfoy from behind him, and nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Christ you're sneaky!" Harry yelped, placing a hand over his now rapidly beating heart.

"I apologize. It's a handy skill to have in our line of work." Malfoy said evenly, and only his look suggested that Harry should have heard him.

"Right, yeah, the setup is fine. I'm surprised really. When did you get into such Muggle technology?"

"I'm not." Malfoy said with a shrug, handing Harry a steaming cup of hot chocolate. "My last lover however could not make it through a night without watch a program on the damned thing. Eventually I broke down and bought one of these and had it set up."

Harry accepted the cup and nodded.

"They're addicting." He said before sipping on his drink. The unexpected moan that rocked through his chest made both of them a bit uncomfortable, but Harry quickly forgot his discomfort as another sip soothed him. "God Malfoy, what did you do to this?"

"Well, I don't use that powder crap for one thing. I use real chocolate, and I use a whole milk as well as heavy cream." Malfoy muttered, looking Harry over skeptically.

"Oh the calories." Harry groaned, but the pleasure weighed out the concern in his voice.

"I'm sure you'll find some way of burning them off." Malfoy muttered. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a beeping from the kitchen made him close it before trying again. "I'll be back shortly."

Harry nodded, taking a few more sips from the chocolate and savoring it before setting it down. By the time Malfoy had reappeared the first movie was queued up and Harry was settling himself into the plush and comfy couch with his delicious caloric sin. Malfoy gave him a judging glance before settling in next to him, putting a bowl of popcorn-

"What's going on there?" Harry asked, pointing to the popcorn.

"Cheese."

"Cheese?"

"Cheese." Malfoy said again. When it was clear that no explanation would be forthcoming, Harry picked up a piece of popcorn, covered in melted cheese and nibbled on it cautiously.

"Why does all of your food taste so good and yet be so horribly bad for me?" Harry grumbled, taking a clump (as cheesy popcorn doesn't get grabbed, it gets balled and clumped and sloshed).

"Play the movie or ask a question you haven't already answered." Malfoy said, managing to grab some popcorn and still look dignified. Harry scowled at him and vowed to do some extra time in the training room to make up for today. With one last pout he turned on the black and white movie.

"I figured we do this from oldest to newest, so you can get some of the evolution of it." Harry said. Malfoy grunted some sort of affirmation and Harry scowled again, sipping at his hot chocolate.

Somewhere between a claymation Rudolf and The Santa Clause the bowl of popcorn had disappeared and Harry noted Malfoy and he had both slid down the plush couch towards the center cushion. Every now and then he'd scoot back towards the arm, but he noted the distinct gradient of the couch as he found himself back in the middle.

"Potter, this is the same story as the last one." Malfoy said, his face twisted up a bit. Harry smiled slightly.

"It's a Christmas classic. It is told and retold. A modern mythology if you will." Malfoy accepted the answer but through the story pointed out all the little differences.

"The boy doesn't look so much like a gremlin." He muttered at Tiny Tim.

"He looked like a gremlin?"

"In that first one, with those big eyes, round cheeks, and the blackening on his teeth made them look pointed." Malfoy grumbled. Harry laughed shaking his head.

"You filled your house with Satanic Santas and Tiny Tim scares you?"

"I didn't say I was afraid of him." Malfoy pouted. Harry looked over to see the actual pout play out. The blonde's lips pursed a bit and his shoulders hunched slightly towards the center of his body, making him smaller. Harry smiled and without thinking ruffled the- silk, he decided as he finished mussing the man's hair. Malfoy's pout turned into a glare. "What was that Potter?"

"What I do to my godson when he pouts like that." Harry smirked. "Only I normally end up turning him on his back and blowing raspberries in his stomach."

Malfoy flushed a dark pink, put the hot chocolate (with what Harry decided had to be a heating enchantment on the cup to keep it at the perfect temperature all the time) to his lips, and sulked. For a moment Harry had a vision of pushing the man over and tickling him until he gasped, but found himself slightly disturbed by the idea of Malfoy gasping under him. He settled back to his half of the couch and contented himself as Melissa Joan Hart in poodle tight curls had a break down while holding a man hostage for the holidays.

"Muggles are mental." Malfoy muttered. Harry paused to enjoy the alliteration of it all.

"I'm sure they'd think the same of us. And I can say that with complete certainty." Harry said, and stretched slowly. "This is the last one before I head home."

"You can't go home yet." Malfoy said, sitting up straight and pushing the empty bowl onto the coffee table. "I want to get some ideas down while they're still fresh."

"Alright, but let's wait until this is over. I really enjoy this movie." Harry said.

"She's kidnapped him and is holding him against his will." Malfoy said with a frown.

"But he's falling in love too." Harry pointed out.

"So the key to your heart is forced intimacy. The Prophet would love to known that." Malfoy chuckled.

"Ugh, I'd have to blast people left and right." Harry grumbled. "I can see the court cases now, 'I read that he liked whips and chains and spreader bars'."

"What's a spreader bar?" Malfoy asked, genuine confusion on his face. Harry turned beat red and choked on his own tongue.

"Uh, don't worry about it." Harry said around coughing. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Kinky Potter." He said after a moment. Harry flushed but decided not to dig his own grave. He was going to blame his last girlfriend for that slip of the tongue, whether or not it was her fault was a different matter.

Finally the movie ended and Harry stretched, working out the muscles that had cramped from lack of movement. Malfoy disappeared for a moment before coming out with a small bit of paper (not parchment, to Harry's surprise), and his wand.

"So, to start with, I like the silver and green theme, but I think that's too Slytherin and too many people are stuck in their houses still, so maybe… like this." Malfoy waved his wand and slowly glitter began to drip from his wand. After a few moments the drip turned into a stream, then the stream turned into a torrent, then the room was changed. Tree's appeared, dripping with crystal and ice, white frosted the mantel and garlands of pine draped around the room. The floor was the glowing white of snow; and as Harry moved to look around he was surprised as it crunched slightly. A few rabbits sat in the corners of the room, looking vaguely annoyed. The walls had seemed to be gone, and it looked like they were in the middle of a forest. In the distance Harry could see a few fire pits scattered about and a white deer raised her head on the horizon. The ceiling was stars on a navy blue backdrop of sky, and the lights twinkled merrily.

"Is that…?"

"Too much?" Malfoy asked, looking at the Santa that was making his way slowly over the sky.

"Kids are gonna love this. But I think we should save this for one room maybe, the whole house like this will be… overwhelming, and I think people will get lost."

"How much of my house are you opening to people, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

"Well, at least the entry way, and the main area…"

"It's a three bedroom farm house, with a barn and modern plumbing. Even the electricity is subpar." Malfoy said.

"We'll work it out when we get there. I love this Malfoy, I do, but… it's so much… I don't know if the guy's and their families will know what to do with it. They might be blown away."

Malfoy nodded slowly and the illusion faded.

"Then maybe something like this?" He asked, recasting the spell. The room filled suddenly, the walls of the room turned into the logs of a log cabin, garland hung around the room and there were a few slyly placed pieces of mistletoe hung. One tree stood coated in red and gold, with silver fairy lights dotting it. At the top of the tree was a veela, which Harry thought looked better than an angel anyway. The mantle had a crèche on it, and there were stockings hung as well, in the window was a menorah, and he was almost sure that the bush there had something to do with kwanza.

"Very multicultural." He mused, and ran a hand through the crèche scene. "I like it."

"We'll use this for the house then, and use the other spells for the back yard… I can do a warming spell there and still make fake snow I think… I might… why are you looking so happy?" Malfoy asked.

"I just love Christmas." Harry said with a grin. "But it's late, and I'm starving."

"Should I make you something?" Malfoy asked. Harry blinked.

"I was just going to grab some fast food." He volunteered the information without much thought.

"You've had too much fattening food. Come on I'll make you something." The illusion vanished, and brought reality crashing down. Harry shook himself and brought himself back to the moment.

"Does that mean rabbit food?"

"Rabbit food?"

"Salad." Malfoy laughed at Harry's face when the man said the word.

"I suppose we can have chicken instead." Malfoy said with an air of compromise.

"You don't actually eat rabbit food." Harry protested.

"I do." Malfoy chuckled, moving into the kitchen. Harry followed him for lack of better things to do.

"I mean, as part of a meal its fine, like an appetizer or a side dish."

"Or as a meal." Malfoy added, with a laugh hidden in his voice.

"That's such… a chick meal."

"A chick?"

"A woman, a girl."

"I know what it is Potter, I'm trying to understand why that word is part of your vernacular and why you would use it in regards to me."

"Well, that last movie may or may not have been classified as a chick flick. And I didn't call you a chick, I just said you eat girly food." Harry said sitting down at the table in the kitchen. He had been watching as Malfoy prepared the food entirely with magic. He'd seen Mrs. Weasley do it, but he hadn't expected someone like Malfoy to be so… domestic. There was a break for a moment and Harry frowned. "Did they… take the house elves as well?"

"Well, someone trying to win points with Granger did." Malfoy said around preparations. "And seeing as I can't stand substandard cooking, I had to invest in cooking classes. Don't distract me too much or I can't promise I won't poison you."

"Wouldn't want that." Harry smiled.

"Well, poisoning the savior would look bad for a former death eater."

"I… Didn't mean it like that." Harry said with a frown.

"I didn't mean anything by it, just stating it." Malfoy said and cursed over a dull splat. "Now you've made me drop the chicken."

"What are you making anyway?"

"Rabbit food. I changed my mind." Malfoy laughed as Harry groaned.

"Going back to torturing me?" He asked.

"You'll try it if it means I don't have to spend half an hour cooking the chicken when I can grill the strips." Malfoy said firmly, shutting Harry up. Not much time later a bowl of salad sat in front of Harry and Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the hero's sniffing.

"The fragrance is offensive?"

"I've never met a salad that had a scent besides green." Harry said. "It smells like orange."

"That's the orange balsamic dressing." Malfoy said simply, "It's a couscous chicken salad."

Harry poked the dish skeptically.

"Honestly Potter, you must have tried something upscale. I know how many Ministry functions you've gone to."

"Keeping an awfully close eye on me Malfoy." Harry commented as he poked at the salad. He was so involved he missed Malfoy's blush.

"I didn't mean it literally. It was a figure of speech." Malfoy grumbled and stabbed a fork into the salad. "Are you going to eat it or dissect it."

"That depends, what are the little white things in it?"

"That would be the couscous." Malfoy deadpanned.

"Oh…"

"For Christ's sake Potter eat it."

"Christ?"

"I picked it up in one of your stupid movies." Malfoy said. "Just eat it."

Harry pouted for a moment before taking a careful bite. He blinked slowly then glared up at Malfoy.

"You're cheating." He said, and Malfoy winced.

"Swallow, then explain your nonsense." Harry colored a bit, at forgetting himself and did just that.

"This can't be rabbit food, it tastes good."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Malfoy drawled. Harry shook his head slowly. Still, dinner went well, and when Harry left he frowned a bit.

"This has been… nice." He said, sounding a bit bemused.

"Glad I met your approval." Malfoy rolled his eyes, but there was a bit of pleasure in his voice that confused Harry. Harry simply shook his head and bowed before apparating out.


	3. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews! Not much to say here except that my spell check now thinks that Christmassy is a word... and that is ok by me!

 

“Mate, you’re scaring me.” Ron grumbled.

“What?”

“Well, you just smiled at Malfoy.” Ron pointed out. Harry scowled.

“He’s really rather nice.” Harry smiled.

“I don’t know…” Ron said with a frown. “This whole thing is odd.”

“You are still coming.” It wasn’t a question.

“I just don’t know how Mione would feel about it.” Ron hedged.

“There’s going to be a Santa for the kids. They’ll love it. And if we get enough people to come, she won’t even have to see Malfoy other than a greeting.” Harry said firmly.

“And just how many people do you think are going to be coming?” Ron asked.

“As many as will fit in the house. I think Malfoy wants to cap it at a hundred.”

“One hundred… You think—”

“I’m certain. I just wish he would let me add wizard space so we could add more.” Harry said.

“Harry, it’s Malfoy. I know you have the best of intentions, but—”

“I’m going to add my name to the invitations.” Harry said.

“Did he ask you to do this?”

“No. I’m doing it because I think it’s a good cause.” Harry said.

“Which, the children, or Malfoy?” Ron asked, his voice low but his brows high. Harry frowned at that.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.” Harry said, and he was sure there was no obstinacy in his voice.

“Look, we both know you haven’t looked at Malfoy the same way since you saw him starkers half a year ago and… and this isn’t the time or place for this conversation. Come over to our house tonight. It’s Mione’s night to make dinner and you could stand a home cooked meal.” Ron offered.

Harry frowned but then nodded. He shook his head. “Let’s get some work done, any news on McGruber?”

Ron rolled his eyes, but they got back to work.

 

 

 

 

That night at the table Harry was playing with his food.

“What’s goose-goose?” He said to break the silence.

“Goo what?” Ron asked.

“Goose-goose, it was in a salad, white, I thought it was parmesan.”

“Couscous.” Hermione said after a moment’s thought. “It’s a pasta dish, I think it’s Moroccan. Why do you ask?”

“Malfoy put it in a salad last night. I’d never had it before.” Harry said with a shrug, picking at the fried chicken.

“You ate dinner with him?” Ron asked.

“We watched Christmas movies and then he had me stay for dinner.”

“This sounds like the plot from a D-grade Christmas movie.” Hermione said, her face caught between a knowing smile and a confused frown.

“Yeah… that sounds like my life right now… But I kinda like it. There’s a reason D-grade movies sell.” Harry smiled.

“Harry, do you even know… where this is going?” ‘Mione asked.

“Well… he made me hot chocolate.” Harry said with a kind of half grin. He hadn’t put much thought into where it was going, or the implications of it going anywhere. He frowned now, thinking about it. “Wait… does liking Malfoy make me gay?”

“As girly as that long hair is, yes, it does. Or at least bi.” Ron said firmly. Harry tried to digest this. “Oh get off it, you’ve been ogling him ever since the Undressed case.”

Ron tried never to refer to it as the ‘Umbridge Undressed’ case as he said he got a mental image far worse than a naked Malfoy in his brain.

“One can appreciate the body of another without being gay.” Harry said.

“Yes, but that appreciation is not generally sexual.” Ron said and Harry blushed a bit. “So are we all on the same page finally?”

“Everyone but Malfoy.” Harry said after a moment, and a little sigh escaped both Ron and Hermione’s lips. At the same time. Couples were scary, Harry decided.

“Right. Well.” Ron said, scratching his head. “Are we going?”

“Of course we’re going!” Mione said, scowling slightly at Ron for even asking. “And we’re bringing Hugo and Rose. They’ll love it.”

Ron frowned a bit as well, and instinctually his eyes went to the ceiling, as if he could see through the floor of his children’s rooms. Both children had been being put to bed as Harry arrived, previously fed and entertained so that the adults could have a quiet dinner without someone having to remove a pea from Hugo’s nose. Merlin only knew how the boy found them, they’d been outlawed from the house months ago. Harry was of the opinion that Rose was summoning them somehow with accidental magic. Ron thought Hermione hadn’t fully cleaned up. Hermione was just puzzled.

“Before we get too far off track, I wanted to congratulate you Harry, you’re dealing with this realization of your sexuality quite well.” Hermione said with a smile. Harry shrugged.

“I guess I probably knew, I’d always enjoyed watching Oliver in the shower, so really… I just haven’t found anyone attractive in a while. Of either sex.” Harry said simply, but he stored the thoughts in the back of his mind to deal with later (a lovely skill one learns with Auror training).

“I was starting to think you were asexual.” Ron added and Harry frowned at him for even knowing the word. Sometimes he missed the Ron that wouldn’t have been able to handle this conversation. “I don’t like you and Malfoy though… I suppose it doesn’t matter and I’ll have to get over it, but I feel I have to complain a bit.”

Hermione laughed at that and Harry nearly snorted his water.

“You nearly sounded like Percy.” Harry said, mopping himself up. Ron scowled.

“What a lousy thing to say to someone who is so…er, not against your coming out.” Ron said with an air of indignity that he couldn’t quite pull off. Harry rolled his eyes. He really hadn’t put much thought into this coming out business either. It didn’t really seem to matter to him that he was attracted to Malfoy. Actually, he was still just trying to come to terms with that. Sure he had been stopped dead in his tracks every time someone said ‘The Streak’, and he had jumped to preserve Malfoy’s personal dignity, and he’d had visions of an innocent tickling becoming a whole lot less G-rated… Ok, maybe he was bi. The idea wasn’t really repugnant. The only problem would be the press. But then, they were always a problem.

“So… This is most likely a stupid question, but was I the last person to know I was bi?” Harry asked.

“Stupid question.” Ron agreed.

“You were the last to know you liked Malfoy too. Really Harry, we’ve known since sixth year. We were starting to worry you’d never come around.” Hermione said with a sigh. Harry contemplated that and decided that yes, he could see where they were coming from there.

“It never occurred to you to maybe, I don’t know, inform me of this?”

“Not really our place to tell you what your sexuality is or who you like. I mean, I don’t remember you bashing me on the head and telling me to get with Hermione.” Ron said, nonchalant.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I did. More than once.” Harry deadpanned, realizing only afterwards that it was a fairly good Malfoy impersonation. The looks he received from his best friends told him he wasn’t the only one who recognized the vocalization pattern. “Ah, so what do I do about this?”

“Oh, I don’t know, wait around another ten years?” Ron suggested before being cuffed over the head by his loving wife.

“Just go with it Harry. If you haven’t figured it out by Christmas, we can plot, but I have a feeling the magic of the season will work its way through you.”

“Mione, that was lame.” Harry said.

“No really, it’s a magical time of year.” She said, and launched into an information session about the reasons why the Christmas season was one of the most magical times of the year, both sentimentally and actually. Ron gave Harry a long suffering look, and Harry could only chuckle at his partner and best friend.

 

* * *

Harry went home that night with a tray of cookies that the kids had made. The frosting was all smeared and the cookies would never win any decorating contests, but honestly, that made them all the better in Harry’s eyes. And as corny as it was, he could taste the love and fun the children had put into it. Sure it was probably his imagination, but sometimes it was better not to question it.

 

 

 

He loosened his tie and sat down on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

So. He was gay or bi. He supposed he should freak out or something. That was what people tended to do when life changing realizations were made. So… what all did that mean for him? Well, he liked men, but… that wasn’t really anything too new. Sure he’d never really realized his sexual attraction, but he had never minded looking at other men. And really, he hadn’t been sexually attracted to any girls since… ah… Well, he’d had sex, so he had to be sexually attracted to girls, right? Maybe not…. He sighed and picked up a bottle and started to open it when he decided it really wasn’t necessary. He was sure when the Prophet figured it out he’d have lots of time to think about it and maybe get drunk, but right now… he was pretty ok with it, and the people in his life who mattered were ok with it too. So really, everything was good. The problem would be with Malfoy, and Malfoy would be a problem. Harry had never heard anything about Malfoy having a boyfriend, though he hadn’t heard of him having a girlfriend… Actually, he hadn’t heard much about Malfoy at all.

Which he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. From what Malfoy said, things hadn’t been good. In fact they’d been awful. Harry frowned at that. He hadn’t even heard the Ministry crowing about it, but then, he’d been rather… busy during the time when that sort of thing would have happened. The court cases he was required to go to were happening day and night after the Ministry was established. Sure Malfoy had seemed upset when school had started back up, but… well Harry hadn’t paid much attention to Malfoy then. He was too busy chasing after Ginny, who was too busy chasing after Dean. And then Dean had chased after Shamus which had caused all sorts of upset.

Harry sighed and pulled his thoughts back to a more recent past. Malfoy was always alone, always working harder than everyone else just to prove his worth, and always managing to do the impossible without any recognition. Even in school, Harry had gotten some recognition for what he had done, and now every time he sneezed into a tissue the Prophet went on about how conscientious he was about public health.  He shook his head and thought of the blonde and wondered how Malfoy could have gone under his radar for so long. It must have been because the man was so focused on not making a fuss. That was the only reason Harry could think of. Harry decided then and there, that even if the Malfoy wouldn’t have him that Harry would make sure the other was better off. He couldn’t promise respect or recognition, but he could work on some of the assets that had been stripped.


	4. Diligence

 

It was twelve days from Christmas and ten days from the Christmas party. Harry straightened his jacket a bit and then frowned. He mussed his hair back up, deciding that with it tamed under all of those spells, that he hardly looked like himself. He took the jacket back off, it was silly to clean in a jacket, what was he thinking, and un-tucked his shirt. Honestly, how did Ginny do it? He’d seen her drifting easily through Diagon Alley with a man on her arm looking fabulous and casual at the same time. Finally he gave up, not sure what sort of impression new cloths would send. Instead he pulled on a pair of ripped up old jeans and a flannel shirt that was nearing the end of its days. With one last worried look in the mirror he apparated into Malfoy’s flat.

“Potter.” Malfoy gasped, and Harry’s eyes widened on a very wet Malfoy.

“D-Malfoy.” He managed before tearing his eyes away and spinning round. He flushed clear to the ears and hit himself on the head for being so stupid. “I’m sorry, you said next time just to come in, and I should have knocked first, but I wasn’t thinking, and—”

“I wouldn’t have minded but you’re an hour early.” Malfoy said, and there was a bit of shuffling. “Most people are fashionably late when asked to help remodel, not an hour early.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just—I uh,” Couldn’t wait to see you? Was kinda hoping for this? Forgot to set my clocks back? Got obliviated in a mission? “Sorry.” He ended lamely.

“It’s fine. If you could just wait for me in the living room, I will try to hurry.” Malfoy drawled, his composure at least was regained.

“No need.” Harry said, with a feigned easy going tone added in.

“For you to go to the living room, of course there is Potter. I still need to get ready and I would rather you not peeping on me as I get dressed, so out from my kitchen and away from my bathroom and bedroom, and into the living room you go.” Malfoy’s voice was dripping with something similar to contempt, but Harry wasn’t sure what it was. He flushed a little deeper, still with his back turned to the man.

“I just- I mean, don’t hurry, I- I’m gonna go sit in the living room.”

“How wise of you, however did you come to that?” Malfoy’s voice was already fading as Harry hurried from the kitchen. Harry sat down on the couch and groaned, closing his eyes. No, wait, that was a bad idea. Every time his eyes closed his mind filled with the image of Malfoy in nothing but a towel, dripping and looking shocked. He groaned again (and it was a groan, not a moan by God),  muttering to himself about what an idiot he was. Malfoy had extended him the courtesy of letting him apparate into the flat, and what does he do, he pops in an hour early while the man was getting out of the shower. He was an idiot.

What was worse was that this wasn’t even the stupidest thing he’d done lately. He’d managed to trip the man up at work when he was trying to beat Malfoy to getting a case file. Harry’s still somewhat gangly limbs had managed to make a mess of both of them, getting tangled between Malfoy’s feet as they both stepped towards the cabinet where the file was stored and sending the blonde tumbling forward in front of at least half of the Auror’s in the department. He’d also managed to nearly kill him with cookies (apparently Malfoy was allergic to walnuts), break fifty ornaments (while shopping for decorations, Harry had been carrying the boxes when Malfoy bent over to pick up a strand of lights, distracting Harry into a pole and leaving the helpless ornaments to the tender arms of the tile floor), and burn down a Christmas tree (Harry wasn’t even going there in his thoughts, he was too embarrassed).

“Are you quite ok Potter?” He heard, and looked behind him to see Malfoy clad in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, towel drying his hair and looking, dare he hope, concerned.

“Ah, yeah, why do you ask?”

“Well, you’ve been clumsier than normal for one, not to mention flushed, and you keep having these weird bursts of wild magic. Did you ever get dragonpox as a child?” Malfoy asked and the towel vanished as the man walked over to put a hand on Harry’s forehead. The flush that was still on the brunette's face then managed to double, and the blonde scowled a bit. “You feel warm, and the symptoms match up. And while I’m looking, you do seem a bit green.”

Harry might have been green, but it wasn’t from dragonpox, if he was colored besides red it was his body’s reaction to the conflicting emotions running through him.

“Ah, no. Not much of a chance to catch it, no witches or wizards around.” Harry said.

“You should really look into getting exposed to it. The first time you have it is the worst. Grandfather died of it because he’d never had it until he was one hundred.” Malfoy said and sat down on the couch next to Harry. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Harry was sure he must look a mess, as his blush wasn’t cooling with the blonde now leaning in close, looking Harry over with soft, concerned eyes. Was that his imagination? He’d never seen Malfoy look soft before, but now maybe, or maybe it was wishful thinking. It was probably Malfoy just concerned that they wouldn’t get the house renovated in time. That was it. Shit, maybe he was catching something, he was obviously demented.

“I-I’m fine. Sorry, just a cold or something.” He muttered and stood. “I’ll just get a pepper up or something, in the bathroom?”

Malfoy nodded slowly and Harry nearly dashed out of the room. For a moment he wished he’d never realized how attracted he was to Malfoy. Now that he saw it, he couldn’t un-see it. Swearing he grabbed a pepper up potion and sniffed it wearily before vanishing the contents. He waited until his skin was back to a semi-normal color before exiting the bathroom.

“You sure you don’t want to lie down?” Malfoy asked, waiting outside the door. Harry jumped and the bottle crashed to the floor. Lie down with Malfoy, that would be great, but breaking the potions bottle wasn’t going to get him there very fast. Harry swore and started to magic it back together before Malfoy knocked the wand out of his hand. “What kind of idiot are you Potter? You don’t know what potion’s I’ve had in there, or how your magic will react. I’ll get it.”

Harry cursed and picked his wand back up, offering to help as Malfoy carefully picked up the pieces and carried them to the trash can. He turned around and looked Harry over before heaving a heavy sigh.

“Why don’t you head home.” It was a command, but Harry decided to treat it as a suggestion anyway. He was embarrassed, but too stubborn to admit defeat just yet.

“No, it’s fine, the potion just hasn’t set in yet.” Harry said firmly.

“If that’s how you want to play this hand.” Malfoy muttered, a sound so soft Harry could hardly hear it, then the man sighed at him and shook his head. “Ok, fine.”

Malfoy finished washing his hands before he examined Harry one last time. Finding nothing obviously wrong, his lips pulled to the side in a slight grimace. He gathered a few items in his arms before he wrapped the arm around Harry’s waist and side-alonged him to a quaint farmhouse.

Harry was impressed.

“It’s perfect.” He said after only a moment.

“Perfect? Potter, it’s a dump.”

“That’s a matter of perspective.” Harry said, and looked over the small thing. It looked like a picture print from Currier and Ives. Which got him thinking. “We should base it around carols.”

“Wizarding or muggle?” Malfoy said, without missing a beat.

“Both, they overlap a fair bit.” Harry said, already plotting. “We could do a sleigh ride, and have jingle bells, and set up caroling and silver bells, and Christmas trees…”

“You’re going overboard again. Why don’t we see if we can make the house presentable before we start ordering in flying horses.” Malfoy said, but Harry was already deep in planning. To Harry, the dilapidated old farmhouse, surrounded by pines and swept by snow didn’t need any work. The slightly sagging roof and the flaked paint simply added to the charm. To Malfoy it was further reminder of just how far his family had fallen. “What do you want to start with?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Never mind, let’s work on the painting.” Malfoy said, trying to drag Potter’s mind away from whatever idle daydreams he might have had.

“What do you want to do to it?” He asked, casting a warming spell on himself to create a barrier against the cold.

“Let’s start by getting the old paint the rest of the way off, but I was thinking white and green.” Malfoy mused.

“Slytherin?”

“Christmas.”

Harry flushed slightly at his mistake and turned to look at the blonde. He felt his breath ease out of him as his mouth dropped. The man was outfitted in a black peacoat with a blue scarf and blue gloves on. On his head was a hat of the same color, and when Malfoy turned to look at him, the eyes that had always looked so grey reflected bits of blue from their surroundings.

“Potter?” Draco asked. Harry shook himself.

“I didn’t think to bring a jacket.” Harry said, trying to act cool. Yeah, cool, he was cold even through the warming charm. There just wasn’t enough clothing to keep the heat in. Draco shook his head and tossed the man a jacket.

“I noticed, I hope it fits, your shoulders are a bit wider than mine.” Draco said. “Sorry, I didn’t think to tell you we’d be working outside and I didn’t have any spare gloves. If your hands get too cold, you can borrow mine.”

“Your hands?” Harry asked without thinking. A strange flush came to Draco’s cheeks.

“My gloves you dolt.” The man huffed. Harry smirked without thinking about it and Draco colored more.

“Well, if that’s the best I can get, I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.” Harry grinned. He smiled more to himself as he didn’t know he could be that daring.  He shuffled through the snow towards the house and began trying to think of an abrasive charm that wouldn’t blast a hole through the walls. “So what were you thinking to get the paint off?”

“Follow my lead. Sabulum fluxum.” Draco’s wand made the rune of earth in the air and then pointed to the wall with a slow jerk. As he did a stream of sand shot from his wand at the wall of the house. Harry nodded and started to cast. “Wait. The key to the spell is the speed of the jerk at the end, you’re using that motion to create the speed of the sand. If it’s too fast, you’re going to blast a hole in my wall and I’ll have to kill you.”  

Harry chuckled but cast the spell easily enough. It took the whole morning to sand down the house, and by the time that it was done, Harry had worked up a sweat even after taking the jacket off.

“Is that it?” He asked, the sand dripping from his wand like water from a leaky tap.

“Yeah, come on in, I’ll make you something to eat before we get started painting.”

“You’re awfully domestic.” Harry pointed out.

“Can you cook?” Draco asked in his statement voice.

“Ah, no… I have a house elf.”

“Best friend of Granger and you have a house elf.”

“Granger-Weasely.” Harry corrected.

“You didn’t answer the absurdity.”

“It wasn’t really a question.”

“It was an absurdity that required a certain accountability.”

“I don’t know, she doesn’t like Kreacher and he doesn’t like her, and they’ve come to the mutual agreement that left on my own I would manage to eat nothing but canned food and take out.” Harry said, not certain if he was just making it up or not, because if there was a way to describe the crackle of tension in the air between the two, it might just be that.

“You really don’t cook.”

“Kreacher won’t let me, and frankly, I don’t really want to.” Harry grumbled. They had moved into the kitchen of the house and it was obvious that the place would need fresh paint on the inside as well as a lot of transfiguration and maybe (though Harry was convinced), wizard space. He was in the process of watching as Malfoy pulled food out of the cupboards and take preservation charms off. “Are we eating more rabbit food?”

“No, I thought I’d make grilled cheese and tomato soup with warm milk.”

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. His normal drawl of ‘Marry me’ would sound highly inappropriate now, or at least, to his own ears it would. Instead he smiled gently and sat down at a table.

“So, we’re painting this afternoon and then working on the inside?”

“Painting it won’t be so bad. The spells for that are easier, more quickly applied, and require less finesse for the most part.” Draco offered. “In here, we need to sand again, and then transfigure. If we’re going with a log paneled look we’ll need to buy stain to put up.”

“No spell that spews stain?”

“Nor one that spews paint, I bought that already, I just didn’t have the money to buy all of paint and the stain. Plus, paint you can buy in white and transfigure the color, stain is harder to manipulate. First law of magic, you cannot create something from nothing.”

“A lot of spells break that.” Harry said with a frown.

“You didn’t take magical theory, did you?” Draco scowled. “The spell we were using earlier uses sand from a beach; it’s a sort of summoning spell. Most spells where things ‘appear’ is summoning.”

“What about Avis?”

“The birds aren’t real Potter, haven’t you noticed?” Draco sounded honestly puzzled now. “They’re a charm which uses illusion and transfiguration to create the appearance of birds. It would be dark magic to use Oppugno if they were real birds. Plus the poof of feathers they create when they hit something would be a lot… wetter and crunchier if they were real.”

“I never really put much thought into it. Magic is just… magical to me.” Harry offered.

“It’s so much more than ‘magic’, there are laws that must be applied in magic the same way they must be obeyed in science.”

“What do you know about science?” Harry wondered.

“Enough to know that it’s not as flawed as most wizards would have you believe. Many of the basic magical principles are supported by science. However not all scientific principles are supported by magic.” Draco said and opened his mouth with the signature look he got right before he delivered a scathing remark. But then his face turned blank and he looked back down at the stove he was grilling the sandwich on instead.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Never mind Potter, it wasn’t anything nice.”

“I got that much, you had your prat face on.”

“Prat face?” Draco’s face twisted, dubious and curious.

“You get this half sneer on your face along with a bit of a malicious glint in your eye when you’re about to deliver a particularly cutting comeback.” Harry said with a shrug.

“Watching me rather closely, hm Potter?” Draco teased but Harry only shrugged.

“I guess so.” He said noncommittally. Draco opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, his face now puzzled.

“You should really get checked for Dragon Pox.” He decided to say a moment later. Harry laughed a low, deep chuckle.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He said, head bowed and shaking. A plate and bowl appeared from where he was contemplated the table grain.

“Eat. I’m going to work you hard when you’re done.” Draco said and Harry flushed at the wording but quickly tucked in. When he finished he followed Draco outside and they spent hours painting the house. Without the constant effort of the spells though, Harry quickly felt himself freezing slowly, even with warming spells on. When they were finished he decided to test his luck again.

Walking up behind the paint splattered, harried Malfoy, Harry put his hands in the man’s pockets, effectively hugging the blonde and making him jump then freeze.

“Just what do you think you are doing Potter.” Malfoy spat the last word with enough force to make Harry shutter a bit.

“My pockets are wet because snow fell in them. You said I could borrow your gloves, but you looked nearly as cold as me, so I thought I’d borrow your pockets.”

“So you molest me?” Malfoy asks, bristling like a porcupine. Harry was suddenly distinctly glad that Malfoy wasn’t a porcupine as he would be stuck all along very sensitive areas.

“I didn’t realize it would offend you so.” Harry muttered, still not moving.

“It’s the casual disrespect for my space that bothers me.” Malfoy snarled.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just touchy feely with my friends.” Which was true, but not the reason he was pressed along Draco’s back. The stiffening in the man’s back told him that he had either said something very wrong or very right.

“Friends?”

“I’m sorry, should I have asked if we were friends? I guess I just- I assumed.” Harry murmured cautiously. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if he was interested in being ‘friends’ but he supposed friend was half of the word ‘boyfriends’.

A moment later the man in front of him melted slightly into the embrace of Harry’s arms.

“It would have been nice to have been informed.” Draco muttered, a slight sulk in his voice.

“I’m sorry; next time our relationship status changes, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Harry chuckled.

“Is it going to be changing again anytime soon?” And Harry couldn’t read the tone in Draco’s voice, or the way the body shifted against him.

“I’m not sure.” Harry said honestly. It was apparently an acceptable answer as the man didn’t curse him. Instead he heaved a heavy sigh and sunk back against Harry, leaning hard.

“I’m tired.” He confessed and Harry chuckled.

“Let’s call it quits for the day and head to my house. I’ll have Kreacher cook something up and we can warm up.” Harry suggested. “We still have a while.”

“I don’t know, I have to pick up some extra shifts to pay for the renovations.” Draco murmured softly. Harry fumed for a moment. The resignation in Draco’s voice was painful. Harry shifted a bit, ending up closer to Draco (purely accidental, Harry convinced himself), and hummed a negative in the man’s ear.

“I’m helping, I’ll pick up part of the tab.” He said firmly. That was apparently more offensive to Draco than Harry’s hands in his pockets because the man broke free and spun around.

“This was my idea Potter; I don’t need your charity.” The blonde seethed, and again Harry was momentarily transfixed by the blue shading the man’s clothing gave to his eyes. His pause gave Draco a moment to carry on. “Just because I’m broke doesn’t mean you have to pity me.”

“No, it’s not like that Draco.” The man froze at his name and Harry took the pause to carry on, the same way the other had a moment back. “I just want to help. It’s only fair that I pitch in. It’s what friends do. Besides, I have more galleons than I care to spend, my parents left me with a good amount, and then Sirius left me with the Black fortune.”

Draco started to open his mouth but Harry hurried on, struck by an idea.

“Technically you’re more of a Black than I am, so the money should have gone to you. So it’s only fair that I spend some of the money on you.” He gushed.

“Draco?”

“Er, that is your name.” Harry said, confused.

“You called me by my name.” The man said, and threw Harry completely off.

“Ah, yes. Well, you seemed to be fine with us being friends, so I thought—Should I call you Malfoy still?”

“No… No, Draco is fine.” The blonde murmured, seeming a million miles away.

“Are you ok?” Harry asked, taking a step towards the man and snapping him out of the trance.

“Fine.” The man snapped. “I’m fine.”

Harry took a step back, not sure what he’d done to trigger the change in temperament. Draco seemed to notice and his head turned to the side.

“I’m sorry. Thank you for inviting me to your house, but I think it would be better if I got some rest.” Draco said and bowed before apparating away. Harry blinked, watching as the snow fell into the footprints where the man had stood. He shook his head and then apparated back to Grimwald place. Kreacher greeted him with a snarl and Harry decided that maybe it was best if he just went to bed. He had a lot to process.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos are the food this story is living on, and the reason this is being updated now instead of 11:59 when I freak out and realize I've been playing Skyrim for 4 hours....


	5. Courage

 

Window tapping should be outlawed. Harry wasn’t sure who was the wise guy who thought that ‘Hey, owls need something to get our attention, let’s have them tap the window at 6am’. Honestly, they were wizards, couldn’t they come up with something better than the incessant tick-tick-tap that could jolt him up from even the deepest sleep? Maybe a blow horn, an owl lands on the window and a blow horn goes off, that was something he could sleep through.

Perhaps he was just grouchy that he was woken from a lovely dream that in no way featured a blonde wizard. No way at all…

Speak of the devil, the owl was from Malfoy. Harry’s plucked the note from the post owl who looked at him with an amused gleam in his eyes.

“What do you want?” Harry scowled at the bird. The bird hopped along the window and then flitted into the room, regurgitating a large, rather sloppy pellet. “You’re lovely, you know that?”

Harry sighed and opened the letter to Draco’s neat handwriting.

‘Dear Potter Harry,

I realized when I returned home that we hadn’t discussed meeting for the rest of the project. I’m afraid I wasn’t feeling too well, and I hope you can forgive me. I am returning to the house today to take inventory on it as well as do some shoring up where the floors and ceilings need fixing. You are welcome to help, of course, but I will certainly need help next Saturday, a day we both have off if the schedule reads right. I’ve decided you are right about the wizard space after all, and would appreciate your help casting the proper spells.

Thank you for your time,

DM’

Harry frowned at the note, turning it over and looking for a clue. Even though it was addressed to him as Harry, the whole thing sounded like a formal proposal to Wizengamots. He frowned and dismissed the bird. The cheeky thing gave a hoot that sounded much more like a scream as it flew out the window.

“Nasty bird.” He grumbled, vanishing the pellet mess. He shook his head and headed to the bathroom to get his day started, not to reminisce about the dream that certainly hadn’t featured a blonde. When he was showered and fresh, he paused by the couch, looking over the jacket that he hadn’t had time to give back to Malfoy. He picked up the pea coat and pressed his nose to the collar, pulling in the scent of pine wood and earth from their days labor, but beneath that there was just a hint of something sweet and spicy that tickled him slightly. Harry put the jacket down, determined not to obsess about someone who most likely would never return his feelings. He finished getting dressed and threw the jacket on, grabbing a scarf and hat as well, but hesitating as he got to his gloves. With a small smile he left the gloves on the table and apparated to the farm house.

He was slightly surprised when he found no tracks in the snow, but made his way in and started up a fire in the fireplace. Looking around the room he decided that Draco was probably right. No matter how rustic the house looked with its sagging roof and uneven floors, the house wouldn’t bear the pressures of the party as well as the wizard space if it wasn’t properly shored up.

Taking off the winter clothing (and now feeling slightly silly for having it when the outside work was done), Harry set to shoring up and strengthening the bits he could do without another person balancing his work. He was in the middle of re-growing a rafter when a pop made him jump, and the beam quake.

“Potter!” Draco yelped (though Harry was sure the man would deny it if questioned under anything less than veritaserum), “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I woke up to the most unpleasant little bird on my window and decided since I was awake and invited, to come over and get some work done.” Harry said, shifting the beam that he had over grown into place. With a few quick cutting charms the beam was perfect and Harry turned to catch a trace of a disgusted look on Draco’s face. “And I thought you were calling me Harry.”

“Sorry.” Draco said with a sigh.

“No need to apologize, I’m sure it was a mistake.” Harry smiled and Draco scowled at him.

“I meant about that bird. It’s the only one at the post that is ever available to me. He’s rotten, really, not even house trained, and he bites.” Draco grumbled.

“Why don’t you just buy your own bird then?” Harry asked, moving on to the strengthen the next beam in line.

“Potter, you’ve been in every room in my flat except for the bedroom,” Draco said, and Harry regretfully agreed, “Where would I put him? And assuming I made room for him, where would he exercise? I live in a mixed apartment building, I couldn’t just let him out to fly at night, people would begin to get suspicious, not to mention my landlord has a strict no pets policy.”

Harry frowned.

“Harry.” He corrected.

“Honestly Potter, are we going to play this game?” Draco sighed.

“What game?” Harry asked, honestly confused.

“The hero game you’re so good at. The one where you rush in to save the day, making everything better and all right with the world, then go off on your way and let it collapse in your wake.” Draco said in a breathy run on sentence.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Harry said, still puzzled.

“Face it Potter, when this stops being interesting, you’ll go off to your next project and leave me here by myself. I don’t need this- this temporary reprieve when it’s just going to be snatched away from me. Sometimes it’s better not to know what you’re missing. I’m used to my place in the world Potter; don’t tease me with false hope.” Draco snarled and Harry’s face twisted in pain. It wasn’t the words that hurt him, but the idea that this man was so crushed by everyone that he couldn’t even hold onto hope.

“I won’t leave.” Harry said softly.

“Sell it to someone else Potter. Try Blaise, he still thinks he can do something with his life, even though he was in Slytherin with us. Hell, he wasn’t even a Death Eater. He was on your side in the battle, but people can’t get over it.” Draco’s eyes were filled with passion, but it was bright like a bonfire, like a fiendfyre. Harry took a step back as Draco’s magic lashed out wildly. This wasn’t just hatred that was pouring from the man, but fear. “Or maybe Greg, fuck, I don’t even know if he’s managed to get himself out of rehab yet. Can’t keep a job because some fucker took off his wand hand with a curse, he can’t even do remedial magic with his left hand. Or maybe Pans, or Nott.”

“Keep going.” Harry encouraged when Draco took a breath for air, and the man stumbled over his words.

“What?” He asked, breathless from his rant.

“Tell me what’s gone on.” Harry said calmly.

“Why the hell does it matter to you?” Draco growled, but any chance of intimidation was lost when the word ‘matter’ shattered. Harry closed his eyes, taking in the fear and the anger of the man, and trying to deal with how shaken he had made the person he was beginning to truly like.

“It matters to me firstly, because it is wrong that they are treated like that. I honestly didn’t know. I hadn’t thought to check up on them. It also matters to me, with no less importance, because it matters to my friend.” Harry said gently, and this was the sort of gentleness that drove storm clouds from the sky or shook mountains to sand. The latter approximation was more appropriate, as Draco was shaking.

“Just… stop.” Draco muttered. “I don’t know if I can take this anymore.”

“What’s happened to Parkinson?” Harry asked, instead of drawing Draco out.

“She’s locked out of any jobs. Managed to earn her certification as a mediwitch but can’t get a job anywhere, despite earning good marks.”

“And Nott?”

“Managed to get a place in the Ministry but is so bogged down by the discrimination that he can’t move even half as fast as others.” Draco said softly, nearly whispering.

“I see.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“Because when you use that tone of voice, you make me believe you do.” Draco murmured.

Harry took a step forward, stopping when Draco took an equal step back. After a quick measurement, Harry took three more steps, effectively backing Draco against the wall. He watched as a flush came to the man’s face, whether it was from the situation or from the heat of his outdoor clothes being worn inside, Harry wasn’t sure.

“Would it be so bad if I did?” Harry asked putting an arm on either side of Draco’s head to trap him in place.

“N-no…” His voice drifted and he looked to the side.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Harry promised and dropped his hands to Draco’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. Draco sagged a bit into the touch and then Harry dropped his head to bump playfully against Draco’s forehead. “I’ll try, I promise.”

The man wriggled under Harry’s attention before going limp again and then nodding.

“I believe you’ll try.” Draco admitted and then looked up. As he did Harry inhaled sharply, noting that their lips could brush with only the slightest tilt of his head. His heart beat a ragged dance in his chest. “Potter?”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you were planning to keep me trapped here for much longer, or if I could get out of these clothes?” The words made Harry stumble backwards.

“What?”

“Well it’s a bit warm in here with the fire going. You did remember to clean out the chimney first, correct?” Draco asked, using the gained space to strip out of his jacket and hat. Harry groaned and Draco scowled.

“Was that a no?” The blonde asked, looking towards the chimney worried.

“Ah, yes.” Harry said, not really clarifying the matter, but letting Draco think what he would. His real groan was his own misunderstanding. He had thought ‘clothes’ had meant something very different. But then, why would Draco get out of any other clothes? Harry didn’t even know if the other man was gay, let alone interested in him.

Draco was casting spells up the chimney and after a moment a small cloud of black dust drifted down. Draco nodded and turned around, the gloves still on his hands. Harry looked at them and wondered if he could still claim his hands were cold…

“Well, I guess we’ll start on the ceiling then, since it will require the both of us working in tandem.” Draco said, studying the ceiling. Harry nodded, and tried to focus on the task. He managed too, for a few hours at least. But when noon rolled around he found his eyes drifting down to the blonde more often than staying on the last of the beams.

“Potter, if you’re not careful you’ll get one of us hurt, and I’m rather afraid it will be me.” Draco turned to chastise Harry, wiping back a smear of sweat and platinum hair.

“Harry.” The brunette corrected automatically. Draco turned his back to the man and nodded slowly.

“Right, I forgot.” He said and returned to securing the last beam. “Ok, I suppose I’ll have to feed you again.”

Harry didn’t say a word, but nodded when Draco looked for his approval. He followed the blonde back to the kitchen and sat down at the table to watch Draco cook. Well, to watch Draco anyway. His eyes followed the blonde yes, but his attention was not on the man’s hands. When Draco turned around Harry raised his eyes quickly to the man’s face.

“You know, you don’t have to watch.” Draco said and Harry’s heart thumped. Not watching was touching right? “You can start doing some sanding in the other room.”

His heart fell but he nodded and stood back up. He continued to work in the other room the sand working down the walls. He frowned when he realized there was no stain still. Moving back to the other room he saw Draco straining water into the sink.

“Almost done.” Draco drawled, not looking.

“I was just going to see if I had time to go get some stain.”

“Oh… No. Why don’t we eat and then I’ll run out and get it while you finish sanding.”

“Or we can eat and then I’ll run out and get it while you finish sanding.” Harry said, detecting the fact that Draco was distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of Harry paying for anything. Before the man could object Harry piped in, “Besides, I’ve been sanding for half an hour already, it’s your turn.”

Draco didn’t seem to have a good argument for that so he dished the pasta out and then poured a delicious looking cheese sauce on top.

“I didn’t know how cheesy you liked your mac and cheese.” Draco said handing Harry a bowl of noodles. Harry grinned and poured the same amount of cheese on as he had seen Draco use.

“I’m burning enough calories to make it worth my time to eat more.” Harry grinned. They fell into companionable conversation as they ate, Draco teasing Harry about manners and Harry teasing Draco about being uptight. When lunch was over Harry stretched and then grinned. “I’ll be back shortly.”

He apparated out, but it wasn’t until nearly two hours later that he reappeared.

“Wizarding hardware stores.” Harry said, amazed as he dropped the cans on the floor. Draco hissed.

“I just sanded those!”

“Well we still have to stain them.” Harry said. “Seriously, wizarding hardware stores. I don’t think they know what hardware really is.”

Draco laughed.

“I’ve taken to buying hardware from muggles, it’s easier.”

“I asked for stain and the woman asked if I didn’t know a good charm for stain removal already.” Harry said dumbfounded. Draco laughed. They picked up their prior banter until the last of the light had waned from the windows. Draco yawned and Harry grinned.

“My evil plot succeeds at last.” He grinned.

“Another interesting story to sell to the Prophet.” Draco smirked.

“You’ll enjoy it I’m sure, because I’m insisting you come eat at my house tonight, you’re too tired to cook.” Harry grinned.

“Says you.” Draco sneered and then yawned again. Harry smirked this time. Draco pouted, something that despite its increasing frequency continued to make Harry’s heart stutter. The man was going to send Harry into early heart failure at this rate.

“You can’t deny it.” Harry said, and then with a quick look around and a small judgment call, wrapped his arms around the blonde and apperated them straight into Grimmauld place. Draco sputtered as they came out, shoving at Harry.

“Cheap trick.”

“Ok band.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” Draco grumbled.

“I want you to want me.” Harry said and enjoyed the flush raise up Draco’s neck.

“Excuse me?”

“Cheap trick’s most famous song.” Harry grinned. “As opposed to Trick Pony, who write Pour me.”

“You’re a regular plethora of useless information aren’t you.” Draco sneered. But it was one of those pleasant teasing sneers that made Harry grin.

“Master Potter is being bringing home company without informings Kreacher.” The house elf moaned. Harry sighed. It was a dramatic day then.

“I’m sorry Kreacher.”

“No Master Potter is being doing whatever he likes. Do not be minding poor old Kreacher. He is not having planned out a dinner for one which will be amended. Not poor Kreacher.”

“Would you like us to eat out?” Harry asked and Draco was sputtering beside him.

“You let him talk to you like that?” Draco asked.

“Well, he is old.”

“The older he is the better he should know. My mother never would have tolerated this. It’s a good thing I didn’t inherit him.”

“Inherits?” Kreacher asked.

“Kreacher, this is Draco Malfoy, the heir to the house of Black if not for me.” Kreacher squealed has Harry said that and poofed out of their presence with a rather dusty pop.

“I see…” Draco said..

“Dust? I know, but I can’t figure out why he apperates with so much dust.”

“No you idiot, it’s just you he doesn’t respect.” Draco grinned and Harry shrugged.

“I prefer it this way. It beats when I used to come home to find the floors so polished I couldn’t walk on them.”

“Lack of proper respect.” Draco scoffed and Harry shrugged.

“I don’t mind the lack of respect.” Harry said. Draco raised a brow. “I mean, he’s one of the few people in the wizarding world who doesn’t think my word is law.”

“I’d hardly say your word is law.” Draco put in.

“And that’s one of the reason’s you’re refreshing.” Harry smiled. Draco looked puzzled for a moment, before Harry gestured him into the dining room. There the subject was changed and Kreacher prepared a lovely meal that Harry was certain was not the one the elf had meant to serve (Harry, for one, he’d never seen the elf serve caviar before). As the night wound down the two discussed the final preparations to be made to the house itself before they began decorating. There was an air of normalcy about the whole thing, despite the roasted peacock, and Harry smiled, wishing this feeling could last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is all I have prewritten so you better give me a few helpful reviews! I'm still not done with this story and need some encouragement to keep it going on time. Otherwise you might be reading about Christmas at New Years and that would just be wrooooong.


	6. Consideration

 

The next few days flew by in a flurry of activity. The house was shored up, painted, stained, and the grounds had been cleaned. Even the barn was spruced up for the festivities.

“Why don’t you live here?” Harry had asked while cleaning up owl pellets from the floor of the barn. “There’s plenty of room for an owl, or another owl even.”

“It’s rather inconvenient.” Draco muttered, but Harry wasn’t convinced.

“You’re a wizard. What could possibly be inconvenient about it?”

“The abundance of space, the quiet, the upkeep, and the distance from anything.” Draco said with an air of arrogance. But Harry had heard the slight pause between the first two items and the rest of the list. Draco thought the house too lonely. He couldn’t say he didn’t know what the man was talking about. Even with Kreacher, Grimmauld Place could be very… big.

“Then why keep it?”

“It’s one of the last remaining pieces of my ancestral land.” Draco said and Harry noted that again there was something more in the man’s voice… hurt this time. Or maybe longing? It was hard to tell. He decided once again to change the subject, fearing their tentative friendship was too fragile for much more serious subjects. He hadn’t had time to do much about the topic of their last serious conversation, and he didn’t want to broach anything else before he made a dent in that gaping wound of a subject.

Harry tried focusing on the farmhouse, but soon all that needed doing was done accept for the magics.  With two days to the party, it was too soon to cast the enchantments except for the wizarding space. When that was done, Harry and Draco stood in the newly enlarged space, uncertain of what they were going to do.

“Well… I guess we have the rest of the day off then.” Draco said, looking the place over. Harry nodded slowly. The furniture had already been created, and the food ordered. The only thing left to do was to decorate, and that would be done the morning before the party.

“Tomorrow as well.” Harry said. He frowned and fiddled with his wand as he looked about, searching desperately for something to do.

“Well, I for one, need to catch up on a bit of sleep.” Draco said after a moment.

“Sleep, yes, haven’t been getting much of that.” Harry conceded. His body complained about it too. He thought about asking Draco over for dinner again, but wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do either. “Would you like to go out to celebrate?”

“A bit premature.” Draco said.

“Right, I suppose, when you consider that the party is the goal, but the house being done is something too.”

“Yes… and I have plans.” Draco said after a moment. Harry frowned, wishing he could think of a reason to stay with Draco. With the party so soon the end of their time together seemed so limited.

“I’ll leave then.” Harry said. He waited a moment before he disapparated, hoping that Draco would stop him, but there was nothing, and he was home. He spent the night sitting by the fire, pretending to watch more of the cheesey family christmas movies as he stared at the open flue.

The next day wasn’t much better. With only a few days until Christmas the whole Ministry was shut down so there wasn’t even work for Harry to focus on. He found himself hoping for a grizzly murder or a particularly interesting break in. Instead he did paperwork he’d brought home with him, again spending the time looking at the flume.

By noon he couldn’t stand it anymore. Instead of contacting Draco he decided to do something a bit more… drastic.

“Rita Skeeter.” He said into the flume, only grimacing a little. The next six hours were spent discussing the life of previous Slytherins, children and otherwise. The more Harry dug, the less he liked. Even Rita began looking ill at ease as they started to dig. It seemed Draco had the best turn out of all the Slytherin children, while many of the actual Death Eaters had gotten back into high positions in the ministry, happy to let the younger generation suffer for their crimes.

“This is… awful.” Rita said, looking through the pages she’d collected. About an hour in, Harry had invited her over so that they could stop sitting on the floor. Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Why didn’t we know?” He wondered out loud.

“Because no one wanted to know.” Rita said. Harry was surprised for a second. “Don’t look so shocked, I might have been a pain in your ass when you were younger, but you were a wild card. Despite popular opinion I am capable of caring and writing serious articles. I’m much better at writing popular articles, and let me assure you, this will be both.”

“When will you have it ready?”

“Well you must know I’m semi-retired, so it’ll take me a day, but I’ll most definitely have it out on Christmas.” Rita said a bit of venom in her voice. She sighed and stood up, stretching. She wasn’t as young and pretty as she once had been, but age had mellowed her and made her more reasonable. She turned to him with a quick smirk. “There will be follow up articles. I’ll be looking for opinions.”

“Word for word only.” Harry said wearily.

“And what about the boyfriend?” Rita asked and laughed when Harry turned a strange shade of pink, caught between blanching and flushing. “Oh, not public knowledge then?”

“He doesn’t even… How do you?” Harry spluttered.

“Really Potter, I’m old, not dead. I know more things about more people than you could dream to know about one.” She smirked and then flashed him a grin, her gold teeth glittering in the back of her mouth. “I think it might be good for you, and good for my new pet cause. I think I’ll call it ‘Slytherin Salvation’, or maybe ‘Crushed Children Carrying on’? I’ll work on it.”

“You’re one scary woman.” Harry said slowly. “And I once had Umbridge as a professor.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She smirked and then flounced to the flue like she was still thirty three.  

  
  


Harry woke up the next morning all on his own, with his heart racing hoping he wasn’t late. He checked the clock to see he didn’t need to be up for another two hours, but decided to roll with it. He dressed and took care with his clothes, debating for a good ten minutes on the pros and cons of wearing gloves. Eventually he decided against it, hoping for a reason to put his hands in Draco’s pockets. He ate a quick breakfast, unsure of if he’d be able to keep anything down with all the butterflies in his stomach. Twenty minutes until he was due to arrive he gave up and apperated to the house.

“I was expecting you ten minutes ago.” Draco said as Harry oriented himself.

“I thought…”

“No, you’re early still, but you’re getting less early. Unless we count the first day when you were an hour late.” Draco said. There was a pause and then, less confidently. “I’m beginning to think you’re losing interest.”

“Not possible.” Harry said, regaining his balance with the whole situation. Draco shot him a look between spelling the decorations together.

“Well then, we have a lot to do before the food arrives, and more before the guests show up.” Draco said. Harry chuckled and shot a light playful stinging hex at Draco’s backside. The man yelped and scowled turning to Harry as he rubbed the sore spot. “Potter!”

“Don’t be so serious. It’s a party.” Harry smirked. “And that’s Harry to you, Draco.”

Draco scowled for a second longer before he rolled his eyes, but Harry caught the flash of a smile on his lips as he turned to keep spelling the decorations together.

“So what are you doing for Christmas?” Harry asked, conversationally as they hung stockings by the chimney with perhaps less care than was merited.

“Nothing.”

“Not spending it with your family?”

“My family doesn’t celebrate Christmas.” Draco said evenly.

“You must do something. You said you celebrated in a traditional manner.”

“That would be Yule, which is on the twenty first of December.” Draco said and Harry frowned.

“I probably should have remembered that from school.” He said after a moment and Draco laughed.

“It is one of the more important days on the calendar. Up there with Samhain and Beltane on the most celebrated list.” Draco said and began stringing garland around the room.

“What exactly does one do for Yule. I mean, we spent a full day watching Christmas movies but I know next to nothing about Yule.”

“Another failure of our educational system.” Draco scoffed but before Harry could object he continued on. “We start by waking up in the dark, and as a family we go out to the east lawn and watch the sun rise. There are some chants and songs that we say to encourage the sun to return, then thank it as it rises. We then go in the house and start the yule log with the remains of last year’s yule log. We will have prepared it with the cider and flour the night before so it will be ready to burn as soon as we enter the house. It’s one of the few tasks my father does by hand. Or did by hand. Some traditional families still celebrate the twelve full days of Yule Tide, but Father always said anything more than three days is-”

“Wait! You were working Yule morning with me!” Harry said suddenly.

“Very good.” Draco chuckled.

“I didn’t even… I’m so sorry Draco, I didn’t know. I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t even wish you a Happy Yule.” Harry fretted. Draco smirked and charmed a mistletoe up.

“I forgive you.” Draco chuckled. “But I expect my Christmas present and my Yule present to be fabulous.”

Harry, who had been eying the location of the mistletoe paused momentarily, struck as he realized he hadn’t bought anything for the blonde.

“At the party?” Harry asked.

“When else would you give me my gifts?” Draco teased. “We are friends, it’s what friends do.”

“Well… I’d thought I’d invite you over for Christmas Brunch.” Harry said, trying to find more time. He could conceivably run out between preparation and when the party started to buy Draco… something… but he wanted to put some thought into it.

“I doubt the Weasleys will appreciate that.” Draco said, moving the Christmas Tree into place.

“I don’t have brunch with them. Bruch is done by myself normally, then dinner with the Weasleys.”

“Well, I won’t be doing anything…” Draco said, concentrating on moving a set of packages that had trinkets for any children who showed up. “When is the Santa we booked coming?”

“He’ll be here at five. I mean, I don’t want to impose on you if you have plans later in the day with other friends or family.”

“No, no I’m not doing anything, it just… don’t you normally spend that time with family?”

“I don’t have any family Draco, and all my friends, no matter how wonderful, want to spend a few hours with their own family.”

“What about your aunt and uncle?”

Harry laughed.

“I thought that got out years ago. My aunt and uncle were abusive, I lived in a closet that you wouldn’t put a house elf in until I was old enough to intimidate them with magic. And now that they’ve realized I’m rich it’s been hell keeping them away.”

“I’m… sorry.” Draco said.

“Honestly it would be nice to have someone to have brunch with. It’s always been the loneliest part of my Christmas.” Harry said, focusing on wrapping pine garland around the rafters.

“Then I’d love to come over for brunch.” Draco said after a moment. This startled Harry more than he thought it would. The man had been so resistant to ever coming over that coming for that…

“Thank you.” Harry smiled sweetly. Draco glanced at the done and then glanced away.

“Don’t thank me.” He said to the tree. Harry smirked a bit at that, and continued hanging fairy lights along his strung garland.

The rest of the day was spent amiably, turning the cozy home into a Christmas Wonderland, pine garlands draped everywhere with fairy lights and the Christmas Tree lit up the room with silver and gold. Red ribbons  lay lazily about, detailing red furniture and red presents. Outside was spelled to look like a winter dream, where when the sun set, Santa would make an hourly trek across the sky in different patterns. The barn was filled with hay (enchanted to be fireproof) another tree was set up inside and music would be playing for dancing. Food would be available inside and out and snow charms were already coating the ground in a layer of fluff when the clock struck five.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, looking over the food again, and double checking the trinkets for the children. There was a pause that made him look at the blonde. Draco shone a bit green in the setting sun and Harry set a hand on his shoulder. “It will be fine.”

“Of course it will. A Malfoy party is never dull.” He said, and the first crack of appreciation rank through the yard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not 12 yet, it's still up today! But you could count the seconds down...


	7. Love

 

The cracks came quickly, one after another, making both Harry and Draco twitch towards their wands. But it was people showing up. The first few looked excited, but a number after looked smug.

“They want to see this fail.” Harry whispered to Draco between hello’s. The kettle between them was charmed to take the admissions money for the charity and glow green or red when more than enough or too little was put in. It very rarely glowed red, and when it did the wizard normally looked mortified as the kettle called out. “For the children!” When the kettle started ticking Draco’s face broke into a huge grin.

“Only fifty people left on the limit.” Draco practically purred. Harry chuckled and welcomed in another witch.

“It’s going well too. Listen to them.” Harry smiled. “You should go mingle, it’s slowing down at the entrance. Make sure everything is going smoothly elsewhere.”  

Draco nodded and practically pranced off. Harry chuckled, welcoming in another wizard. If they did this again next year, there would have to be reservations, and wasn’t that a thought. Harry smiled as a few more people trickled in before double checking the spell that kept the kettle immobile and began to drift through the house.

Ron and Hermione and Rose were in the living room, with Rose playing with  a muggle toy that had been in the trinkets. It was a wooden puzzle and Ron kept trying to spell it into submission which made Hermione laugh. A few more children were climbing on the rent-a-santa. He flagged Harry down between children.

“I… Hate to do this, really.” The man said, panting a bit. “But one of the kids smeared peanut butter all over me and I’m afraid the allergy spell I’m using-”

“Go!” Harry insisted. Then paused. “Can I borrow your suite?”

“Sure, sure, I have to dry clean it anyway.” The man said, “Just show me where I can change.”

Harry led the man to the upstairs bedroom, standing outside as the man stripped out of the suite and hurrying in next to him. The man was gasping and panting and a bit flushed as he rushed out of the house. “Feel better!” Harry called after the man, worrying about him.

He changed into the suite, and dying his hair. He grew in a grey beard and changed the shape of his glasses. He hurried back down stairs to a gaggle of children and didn’t get a chance to move again for most of the night as he passed out trinkets and played with little ones.

The last then he expected when he saw Draco coming was to be tugged to his feet and up the stairs. In the main bedroom he was pushed up against the wall, and not in a pleasant fashion he might have appreciated.

“Stay away from him.” Draco hissed.

“Wha?”

“There are rumours that Harry Potter tickled Santa Claus underneath his beard by quite a way.” Draco snarled. Harry paused, uncertain of what to do with this opportunity. He could find out quite a bit about Draco and what was going on in his head, here, but Gryffindor honesty won out.

“Draco-” He tried but was cut off.

“No one calls me Draco.” He snarled. “I won’t have you taking liberties I wouldn’t give away.”

“No one?” Harry asked.

“No one.” Draco snarled again, his lips pulling up.

“I won’t call you that again. I’d thought we were friends. I’m sorry.” Harry said breaking away.

“Wait… Potter?”

“At least you’re kind enough to return the favor.” Harry said with a sigh.

“I don’t understand.” Draco said pulling back.

“Neither do I.” Harry grumbled. “But what you don’t understand is that the Santa got sick and instead of making the kids do without I asked to borrow his suite. I don’t know why it was a big deal.”

“Harry wait.”

“No. Don’t. I’m going back down stairs, we’ll talk later. Maybe.” Harry grumbled walking off. He shook off the angst as he walked down the stairs, sitting back down to pass out presents. He hasn’t been there for more than five minutes when a loud slightly off key rendition of Dashing Through the Snow started emanating from the door. Harry stood, setting down a small child.

“Santa’s got to run to the bathroom.” He said, catching Ron’s eye. Ron stood up, setting Rose on Hermione’s lap and joining Harry as he hurried toward the entryway.

“Stop right there.” Alecto Carrow snarled, setting her wand tip to Draco’s throat. Harry froze looking between the two. Alecto was wild eyed her other hand still on the kettle that held close to a thousand galleons.

“Nice to see you again Alecto.” Harry said.

“Back off Santa, or the blood traitor gets it.” She snarled and then blinked. “Potter?”

“Seems no one can see through the suite tonight.” Harry said amiably. He looked from the wand to Alecto. “So, you decided this would be your high end theft for the month? I’m honored.”

“It was supposed to be easy.” She snarled. “Low base gain with higher end gains when I’m paid.”

“You let that slip on purpose. You want us to let you go for information.” Harry mused. “And I might be willing to do that.”

“Harry!” Ron hissed but Harry held up a hand.

“So what do you have that’s worth our time?” Harry asked, looking relaxed as he all but vibrated with tension and anger.

“I have this one’s life in my hands.” She snarled trying again, snarling as another couple of people showed up, drawn in by the caterwauling of the kettle. “Make them back off!”

“Ron, would you?” Harry smiled, and nodded as a silencing charm fell down around them, followed by a notice-me-not. “What else can I do to make you comfortable?”

“You could break your wands.” Alecto offered.

“Let’s be reasonable here Alecto.” Harry smiled and lowered his wand to waist level. He tensed as Draco bucked in Alecto’s hold.

“Crucio!” She yelled and Harry snarled as Draco fell to the ground, writhing. Alecto smirked. She was showing that she was willing to use the unforgivable curses, that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill. Harry ground his teeth. The spell had been short, too short for him to disable her, but plenty long to make Draco pant for breath on the ground. Harry watched her eyes and wiggled his fingers a bit. Alecto looked down and Harry cast a non verbal spell behind her, twitching his wand just a bit. Slowly ropes began to grow out of the grass.

“You wanted to tell us something.” Harry said as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I want out of here, with the pot.”

“I’ll have to take the antiaperation ward off of it then. It’s queued in to me.” Harry said.

“I don’t think so Potter.” She snarled but before Harry could do anything else Draco stunned her from where he laid on the ground. The woman fell backwards into the coils of rope that had been growing and ready to spring. Harry dropped down to his knees pulling Draco onto his lap grabbing his chin and forcing his mouth open. There was no blood, no bitten tongue, no cracked teeth.

“I’ve seen worse Harry.” Draco grumbled, pulling out of Harry’s grip and looking over to where Ron was securing Alecto.

“What happened to Potter?” Harry asked. Draco paused still sitting in Harry’s lap and looked him over.

“I… I was jealous alright?” He muttered, looking away with a slight flush to his cheeks.

“That I might have a quicky with the cute Santa?” Harry chuckled.

“Of the cute Santa.” Draco grumbled, and Harry laughed, pulling the man’s face back around by the chin. Draco looked at him stunned for a moment before Harry closed the distance tasting only the slightest copper hints in the man’s mouth.

“Mommy, is Malfoy kissing Santa?” Rose asked as the the notice-me-not spell fell and Ron got Alecto to her feet.

“Santa could give his partner a hand.” Ron offered putting Alecto’s wand in his pocket.

“I think Santa’s favorite elf has it all under control.” Harry offered, he adjusted and pulled Draco onto his now outstretched legs. Draco rolled his eyes and stood up, brushing his pants off. Harry hurried to his feet grabbing the man’s shoulders. “You were just crucioed, sit down.”

“Harry, I’ve seen worse.” Draco said softly, and Harry’s mind filled with the dark days. “I’ve got to do some damage control on the party.”

“You’ve got to rest, no matter that you’ve seen worse. and Ron and I have to call this in. Why don’t you take the suite and play with the children for a while.” Harry offered. Draco paused before nodding, leading Harry up the stairs to the bedroom so that Harry could change. Harry looked around the bedroom as he did, thinking that the bedroom was lovely. He had just taken the suite off and gotten his hair back to normal when Draco barged in. The blonde looked flustered and flushed. Harry took a step towards him before he got slammed into the same wall that he had been slammed into earlier.

“I’ve made a decision.” Draco said, his face a similar color to Santa’s suite.

“You have my attention.”

“We’re changing our relationship status again.”

“Oh?”

“You, Harry Potter, are either going to date me or stop leading me on because if I get another one of your longing looks or hands in my pocket as your friend I am going to explode.” Draco snapped. Harry laughed, then laughed harder as Draco sputtered and blustered. He took pity a moment later and leaned in to kiss the man again.

“I thought I made that clear when I kissed you earlier. I’ll take note that you’re the kind that needs everything written down in duplicate.” Harry practically purred against his blonde’s lips. That made him grin. Draco blushed a moment longer, then hesitantly leaned in for a proper kiss. One that wasn’t filled with angst and worry, or humor and pleasure, but one that was soft and simple and sweet. Harry whimpered a bit as Draco drew away, making the other man smirk.

“You promised you’d let me know.” Draco murmured against his lips.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Harry said softly.

“How?”

“Presents?”

“Lots of them.”

“With big bows and shiny paper.” Harry promised again. Draco hummed and pressed up against the Wizarding World’s Savior. He stayed there, breathing in the man’s scent and relaxing into his arms.

“I have wanted to do this since your bloody movie marathon.” Draco confessed.

“So long?”

“Maybe longer. It’s amazing how endearing you can be when you’re not going out of your way to make my life miserable.”

“I wouldn’t say that was ever exactly my intention, but you did lead a pretty colorful childhood.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.” Draco chuckled. He wrapped a finger in the waistband of Harry’s pants. Harry groaned and pulled the man’s hand up to his chest.

“I still have to file a report about the attack and you still have a party to oversee.” He said, but the regret in his voice could have filled a loch.

“Tomorrow?” Draco asked hopefully. Harry laughed.

“Those puppy eyes got you everything you wanted all of your life, haven’t they?”

“Mostly.” Draco purred, nuzzling into Harry’s neck.

“I’ve been informed you need more presents before Christmas, so no. Not tomorrow either. Christmas morning.” He said firmly, though he knew if Draco argued he would be done for.

“Christmas morning it is.” Draco said with only a small playful pout before he changed moved to get into the Santa suite. “But you’d best come back to night to help me clean up.”

“As soon as I can.” Harry said and pressed a light kiss to the man’s cheek. Draco smirked and claimed another kiss from the man’s lips.

“Soon.” Draco purred huskily, then turned away. “Go on then, I’ve got children to entertain.”

 

Harry returned to the house haggard and weary, dreading pick up. He walked in and frowned, seeing the place spotless inside. In fact, now that he thought of it, it was spotless outside as well. He wandered into the kitchen to see that it too was spotless… except.

“Is… that a steak?” He asked, his mouth watering.

“I thought about just feeding you left overs, especially since it’s past midnight and just want to sleep, but you did defuse the situation with Alecto.” Draco said, stepping away from the stove with a pan filled with rice.

“This from the man who got over a Crucio in moments and stunned her.”

“Into your waiting ropes.”

“Are we really arguing about this?”  
“I imagine we’ll argue about more trivial things than who possibly saved me.” Draco chuckled and sat down across from Harry.

“Where’s yours?”

“Are you kidding? I had to fly all around the world tonight eating cookies and milk. I couldn’t eat another bite.” Draco chuckled and Harry smirked, reaching out to finger the white fur trim of the suite. “I also helped myself to the left overs, though there weren’t many.”

“It was a success then?” Harry double checked.

“As much as any party can be when the host get’s hit with an unforgivable curse.” Draco shrugged, then a grin broke out from behind his nonchalant mask. “I got requests for invitations next year.”

“Will we be doing one next year?” Harry asked, wondering if the ‘we’ sounded needy.

“If you play your cards right I might use you as manual labor again.” Draco grinned. Harry spent a moment to feel self conscious about eating in front of a plate-less Draco, but a moment after the steak hit his tongue he forgot about anything but eating. He sighed as he pushed the plate away. Draco was giving him a funny look.

“Something on my face?” He asked, reaching up to brush it away with a napkin but Draco stilled his hand, leaning over and kissing a grain of rice off the corner of his mouth. Harry froze.

“You should probably go now.” Draco said softly. “I don’t want this to move too fast, and if you stay much longer…”

Harry nodded and stood.

“Walk me to the door?” He asked. Draco grinned and slipped his hand in Harry’s leading him to a door they had painted together.

“So… do we kiss goodnight?” Draco asked as they stood there. Harry chuckled and brought him two steps to the left and one back.

“No, now we kiss under the mistletoe.” He smiled looking up. Draco followed his gaze and chuckled softly.

  
  


Christmas morning came more quickly than Harry would have anticipated. He had thought Christmas Eve would drag on, but the running from shop to shop and the time he spent wrapping presents filled his day and made him eager to collapse onto his bed when he was done. He had re-keyed the wards last night, so that Draco could apparate in on his own, and had informed Kreacher that Draco would be coming, so a full spread of breakfast was to be laid out. For once he was certain that the elf would do as he was bid, not for Harry, but for Draco.

Harry slunk down the stairs, hoping to get a full cup of tea in before Draco showed, but was flummoxed when he got to the bottom of the stairs.

“Draco?” He breathed.

There, standing next to the pile of silver and green wrapped presents was an other worldly sight, one that Harry would never have guessed to have seen.

“If you make a big deal out of it, I will leave right now and change.” Draco snarled, but his face was the same red as the sweater he wore. In the center of the jumper was a lion wearing a Christmas hat. The lion winked at Harry and stalked around the blonde’s chest once then twice.

“It’s so…”

“Gaudy, awful, repulsive?”

“Perfect.” Harry laughed.

“It should be. It took me weeks to find this thing for you.” Draco sniffed.

“For me?” Harry asked, eyeing the man wearing it. Draco’s blush faded and he nodded slowly.

“I thought you might like the ironic twist.” The man purred, and the lion on the jumper arched it’s back and swaggered about.

“You, are a genius.” Harry smirked, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around the blonde. “And it’s not ironic at all, because I’ll still be unwrapping my best Christmas present.”

“That is the sappiest most saccharin thing I have ever heard.” Draco said, twisting his face up in a knot.

“Lucky for me, I know you have a sweet tooth.” Harry grinned and Draco was still laughing as he leaned down to kiss the sound silent.

“Merry Christmas.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK guys. If you’re really nice to me, I might have an epilogue up in a few days. Also I'll apologize now for all the spelling and grammar issues, no beta on this since the first chapter, so it's all very raw.


End file.
